The Warden of Sword Art Online
by Andor734
Summary: We know all about the horrors of Sword Art Online: ten thousand kids, trapped in a game that could kill them at any second. But what about the technicians, software developers, and server admins, forced to maintain Kayaba's prison and watch these innocent children die? What would that do to a person mentored by the madman himself? AU with original characters. Read and rate!
1. The Launch

Gillian removed her glasses and rubbed away her sleep dust. The bumping of the train almost made her poke her eye with the arm of her spectacles, and she put aside her mild annoyance with a hum. She returned her spectacles to their place on her nose and yawned.

 _I really should have gotten more sleep last night,_ she thought.

She felt a sudden pat on her shoulder, and she turned to the grinning old man beside her. He excitedly chuckled as he pointed at the screen on the wall.

"That's you, isn't it?" rasped the old man.

Indeed, there was Gillian, dressed in a purple pencil skirt and blazer combination. Her recorded expression announced to every single viewer just how far outside her element she was.

 _Goddammit, that dress was damn uncomfortable,_ she grumbled internally.

To the old man, she beamed and said, "Yep, that's me."

"Heh heh! Good on ya," said the old man. "You've got a big day today, don't ya?"

"Uh-huh," replied Gillian.

"Oh, way back in my day, it was just hand-held controllers and Mario," said the old man. "Now, it's all virtual reality headsets. My grandson goes on and on about it."

"Oh yeah?" asked Gillian, who was barely listening. "Was he one of the lucky ten-thousand?"

"Only just missed it," said the old man. He shook his head with dismay. "The things these kids get into, ya know? Give 'em ten years, and my boy'll be more worried about making a living."

"Maybe he'll end up working for him," said Gillian, pointing to the Japanese man on the screen, standing beside her. The broadcast effigy grinned excitedly as the subtitle appeared beneath his face: Akihiko Kayaba. His face shimmered under the blast of a thousand camera flashes.

"Ah, yeah," mumbled the old man. "My boy'd love to be like him."

The train ground to a halt at 22nd Station, and Gillian stowed her book into her bag. As she stood, she whispered in the old man's ear, "Tell him to keep studying, and he definitely will be."

Gillian hopped off the train and exited 22nd Station. She glanced across the street to the building to the west, with the _Argus, Inc._ logo emblazoned upon its outer wall. The crowd outside the building, comprised mostly of news crews, made her hair stand on end. She huffed away her frustration crossed the street a block down from the building. She went up Tubbs Street, around the back of the Argus Building, and hopped in via the service entrance.

One of the early morning janitors noticed her approach and offered her a smile.

"Good morning, Chief," he said.

"Thanks, Glenn," said Gillian, accepting his hand to help her through the backdoor.

A slender man with a jaw only slightly less pronounced than his Afro hair-do greeted her inside. As he matched her power-walk down the hall, he chucked, "You're two minutes early."

Gillian rolled her eyes. "You predict when I get in, Dan? Clearly I've been doing this job too long… and we haven't even started the friggin' job yet."

Dan handed her a tablet. "This is the last-minute update from command."

She snatched the tablet and brought up a wide array of readings and check-offs. She scanned them quickly, humming at the key information and frowning at the parts that bothered her.

"Holloway is behind again?" she murmured.

"Only by an hour," said Dan with a reassuring tone. "He'll catch them up."

"Jesus, Dan! We've got five hours to bring this machine online," exclaimed Gillian. "He said this job'd be done three days ago."

"Apparently, there was a coolant shunt that wasn't installed properly," Dan explained. "They've just got a new one out of storage, and they'll have it up and running."

Gillian shook her head with dismay. "Four years, Dan… _Four years_ I put into this. Five hundred skilled workers and two hundred support crew, all to build the single most complex computing machine ever conceived… for an online game."

Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and said, "Hey! It's not just _that_ , and you know it."

A voice sounded behind them, a thick Japanese accent flavouring its tone. "Of course she knows it."

Gillian turned, her heart skipping beats upon seeing one of her favourite people in the entire world. The lower portion of his face hid behind a greying beard, while the upper portion was furrowed. He straightened out his ironed shirt and freshly cleaned jacket and proclaimed with a stern voice, "As punishment for belittling my dream, Doctor Hearn …" Then, his beard twisted under the force of his grin as he exclaimed, "You must give me a hug! That's not a request, Gillian!"

Gillian's scowl broke and she threw her arms around the man.

"How are you doing, Professor Kayaba?" she said.

"Akihiko! I told you to call me _Akihiko_ ," said the man jovially.

"Fine, _Akihiko-sensei,_ " replied Gillian with a roll of her eyes.

Dan stepped away from the pair and took his leave. "I'll tell Holloway to get a move on," he said as he turned a corner.

Gillian turned back to Akihiko and asked, "You didn't need to come here so early, Sensei. We're still hours away."

"Pah, that's quite alright," said Akihiko with a wave of his hand. "Like you said, it's a game. But… it's also my dream. My baby. And I would like to be here for its delivery."

Gillian beamed and gripped his hand tightly. "And it won't come a moment too late."

"Only if you get to work, _Hearn-kun,_ " replied Akihiko. He locked eyes with her and grinned. Then he pursed his lips, as if stifling himself from verbalising long pent-up thoughts. Gillian leaned in, sensing that there was something he wanted to reveal. All he let out was a sigh, and he said, "Go on. I'll watch from the observation lounge."

Gillian bade her mentor farewell and hurried down the corridor. She couldn't keep the excitement from putting a wide smile on her face. She thought of all the time spent under that man as an undergraduate, then a research student, and then being brought aboard for his magnum opus. Though she still had nightmares about his cortical architecture finals, she still thought fondly of all his encouragement.

 _It certainly got us through the long haul, developing the NerveGear,_ she thought. She looked over her shoulder, but he had clearly gone down another corridor. Yet, she still steadfastly assured her mentor, _Today, your dream of Castle Ironclad comes true._

* * *

The main control room bustled with activity. All the systems specialists and technicians rushed to their stations, climbing over those already seated and trying to complete all their final checks. At the table to the rear, just beside the entrance to the chamber, sat Gillian. She presided over the whole kerfuffle like a watchful judge. Miniscule reports and feeds came through her terminal, and she acknowledged each titbit as it popped up. When she had time, she eyed the countdown blearing on the big screen, of which everyone had a good view. To the left and right were varied status readouts, while the centre portion comprised only a spinning _Argus, Inc._ logo.

The hubbub started die down as the countdown reached seven minutes. At six minutes, Dan waltzed in with a box.

"Chief Admin," he proclaimed. "I'm afraid you're improperly dressed."

Initially, Gillian didn't notice the box he presented, and glanced down at her crinkled tee-shirt and jeans. Her ignorance earned her a few chuckles before Dan opened the box and revealed a black cap and jacket. Gillian donned the jacket, revealing the bright blue logo on the back: _Sword Art Online_.

The entire team applauded as she twirled to show off the new apparel. Then she put on the cap, only for Dan to snatch it off and put it back on her head, backwards. With that, the team went wild, and hooted with excitement.

"Okay, okay," droned Gillian shyly, waving them off. "Come on, quiet down. We've got five minutes to launch, and we need to make sure everything's in order."

The team stopped applauding and went straight to their stations. Chatter bubbled across the terminals as information went back and forth. Commands and feedback flooded between the control room and the massive opto-electronic contraption in the basement, into which hundreds of litres of coolant and thousands of watts gushed. Everyone shivered with excitement as checks were completed and readouts showed green.

"All right everyone," Gillian announced. "We're at T-minus two minutes thirty seconds. I want final systems check." She sounded off: "Cryonics."

"Online," said the plump woman near the left-most front.

"Eye-Oh," murmured Gillian.

"Online," said the short man at front-right.

"PSU," said Gillian.

"Online," yelped the bald man staring the power analysis screen.

"Cache?" asked the admin.

"Online," said the four-eyes beside the baldman.

"Northbridge?" asked the admin.

"We're online, Admin," replied the man to her left.

"Southbridge?" asked the admin, stifling a yawn.

"Go, Admin," replied the man to her right.

"So-Co?" asked the admin.

"Super-green, Admin," replied the acne-ridden kid part way down the aisle.

"DASM?" said the admin.

"Ultra-green, Admin," said the redhead beside the acne kid, his tone intended to one up his partner.

"Sec-Com?" asked Gillian.

"Go," belched the blonde by the wall, her eyes steadfastly fixed on her terminal.

"Switchboard, Oslo?" said Gillian.

The Norwegian man on the screen in front of her replied, "Online, Admin."

"Switchboard, Shanghai," asked Gillian.

A Chinese woman replied through her video feed, "We are online, Admin."

Gillian slapped her hands together with excitement. "Good job, everyone. We are Go for launch." The crowd simmered with anticipation. All eyes locked on the big screen. Gillian huffed, and the proclaimed, "Northbridge, commence boot sequence."

"Copy, Admin," replied Northbridge. He punched a few commands into his terminal. "BIOS is online."

"PSU, how's the load?" asked Gillian, rubbing her hands together.

"Inflow's looking good, Admin," said PSU, a thumbs-up over his shoulder.

"Eye-Oh, bring the content databases online, I want them ready when the CMOS sequence finishes," said Gillian. Her display presented a blue confirmation widget, and she grinned. "Southbridge, standby for engine entry point."

"Copy, Admin," replied Southbridge, flicking a few virtual buttons and adjusting her display.

Gillian's console bleeped, and the Shanghai Admin's voice mumbled, "Doctor Hearn, we've rejected a few pings on our inbound."

Dan chuckled beside her, "Kids're knocking on the candy store door, Admin."

Gillian let out a bewildered giggle. She shook her head in amazement as Southbridge announced engine entry point.

"Contact confirmed, Southbridge," she stammered. "DASM, So-Co, keep an eye on those initialiser thunks once they hit the mainframe. Sec-Com, no trolls?"

"None that I can see, Admin," replied Sec-Com, chewing her lips nervously.

"Ready to initiate final start-up sequence on your mark, Admin," said Northbridge.

"Take it away, fellas," replied Gillian with a twinkle in her eye.

Down in the basement, the cryogen pumps whirred as the massive supercomputer roared to life. Light-Emitting Diodes glimmered through out the machine, making for a shadowy landscape resembling a twilit fairy tale cityscape. In the control room, the lights flickered, making the PSU technician nervous.

"Just a drain, Admin," he mumbled. "Auxiliary batteries are compensating."

The lights returned to full brightness, and there was a moment of silence. The technicians all checked their readouts. One by one, the systems technicians reported all green readouts. Gillian clapped her hands together.

"Cardinal Engine is online," she exclaimed. "Start the clock!"

A clock at the top right-hand corner of the big screen began ticking. It elicited a brief round of applause, during which Gillian hopped down the aisle toward Eye-Oh. "Open the candy store," she said.

"With pleasure!" replied Eye-Oh giddily. He hit the widgets on his display. Almost instantly, the player counter below the clock started climbing at a staggering rate. "Player count at seven-hundred and rising fast," said Eye-Oh.

"Northbridge, keep an eye on core load," ordered Gillian.

"We're good so far," replied Northbridge.

"Trolls?" asked Gillian, her eyes gazed at the nail-biting blonde by the wall. She silently shook her head. Gillian looked back at the counter. Over six thousand players had signed in.

"Rendering feeds available, Admin," reported Southbridge.

A sharp wave of excitement clattered up Gillian's spine as she yelled, "Town of Beginnings, on screen."

The centre panel of the main screen lit up with a pixelated rendering of a stylish, medieval city. Its Roman-esque architecture blanketed the landscape, stretching out to a glimmering digital horizon, above which towered landmasses like mushrooms. In the centre of the city erupted what looked like a volcano of blue light. Blue plumes of light signalled the appearance of the hundreds of eager gamers, salivating over the online experience of which they were soon to partake.

The last plume subsided, and the player counter read ten thousand.

"Wow, _that_ was fast," said So-Co.

"All systems, I want load reports," yelled Gillian.

Every technician and analyst gave the thumbs up. Southbridge even went as far to state, "We're well under maximum performance specifications."

"Maybe we could've sold more copies," mumbled Northbridge.

Gillian stifled a laugh. She marched back to her station at the top of the aisle and proclaimed, "Congratulations everyone. Sword Art Online is officially launched."

The team shot up from their seats and cheered. High-fives were exchanged, hands were shaken, and fists bumped. Gillian took a few pats to the back, but was content to silently revel in the success.

 _Hey, Akihiko-sensei was going to be in the observation deck,_ she reminded herself.

She looked up to the window above the entrance to the control room. She had expected to see him clapped and grinning back at her. But he wasn't there at all. She frowned with confusion, and took a quick moment to climb up the stairs toward the observation room.

A wave of disappointment damped her spirits when she saw that her mentor wasn't there.

* * *

 **I hope you liked that. Please read part 2, and let me know what you think.**

 **I've used a LOT of computer jargon here, which I hope wasn't confusing. For reference, I'll put some definitions down here:**

 **Cryonics: keeping all the server hardware cool. I imagine a supercomputer running something like Sword Art Online would generate a _tonne_ of waste heat.**

 **Eye-Oh: This is how you'd pronounce I/O, which stands for Input and Output. This represents all the data coming from and going to the NerveGear devices.**

 **PSU: Power Supply Unit - obvious.**

 **Cache: Server memory and storage, including tracking all the player data.**

 **Northbridge: This is a extremely high-speed interconnect between the central processing core and cache.**

 **Southbridge: This is a slightly slower (but still fast) connection between the Northbridge and the I/O shunt.**

 **DASM: Short for Disassembler. This technician would analyse the machine code of the server as it's being executed.**

 **So-Co: Short for "Source Code." This technician works with DASM to match the human-readable source code to the disassembled machine language.**

 **Sec-Com: Short for Secure Communications.**


	2. Not just a bug

The control room buzzed with chuckles and chatter. Any eyes on the main display were treated to a fine display of players in robust, beautifully crafted avatars roaming about a fanciful city. Everyone remained diligent at their posts, their elation notwithstanding. The cryonics technician occasionally groaned at a particularly irksome coolant valve that just wouldn't stay open. Sec-Com was the least concerned with the chit-chat going around the room, as her eyes remained fixated upon the log screen in front of her.

Gillian looked up from her terminal to see Dan approach. Her focus on the reports before her broke and she asked, "Any sign of him?"

"Seems Doctor Kayaba went home long before the launch," said Dan with a shrug. "His dream was the game, remember?"

"I remember," said Gillian with a roll of her eyes. She pointed at the screen. "He's probably in _there_ somewhere."

Southbridge suddenly blurted, "Whoop, they're already exploring outside the city."

Gillian chuckled, "Copy that, Southbridge."

Dan leaned back in his chair and sifted through his Afro. He grinned at the screen and said, "My older brother's an entomologist. He had one of those ant colonies in our room. You know, the ones with see-through soil so you can see what they're building? Those kids playing now just reminded me of that colony." He shook his head in amazement. "It's a whole world inside that computer," he went on, his eyes directed at Gillian. "And you're at the centre of it all."

"Please," replied Gillian. "I'm a glorified bean-counter. I just make sure the game works."

"Yeah, but one order to one of the people here, and you could meddle in this whole world," said Dan. "You could switch off gravity if you wanted! Oh, how terrifying."

Gillian flicked him away. Before she could tell him off for teasing her, Cache butted in over the intercom. "Check it out! We've got our first battle."

At the excited request of a few other technicians, Cache directed the live game feed to show a pair duking it out against a pair of wild boars. The bulky guy ruffled his red tunic as he hit the ground, the shape of a boar's front hooves on his gut. The muscular man in blue forewent his sword, picked up a rock nearby, and deftly pegged it at the boar, ending it quickly.

"Who've we got here, Eye-Oh?" asked Gillian.

"The guy in red has the username Klein," said Eye-Oh. "Some dude in Australia. The guy in blue… Oh, the prodigal son hath returned! It's Kirito."

"Oh my God, that guy?" exclaimed So-Co. "The tester who played every hour for the whole beta?"

"Jesus, does this guy not have a life?" exclaimed Gillian.

"He doesn't want to be killed," intoned Northbridge facetiously. "He has no life and how can you kill that which has no life?"

Gillian grimaced. "Is that from _The Simpsons_ or something?"

"South Park," replied Northbridge.

Gillian immediately cut him off before he could get into a long rant about the episode. She plonked back into her seat and mumbled, "I don't understand how anyone could live like that."

"The world here is boring," said Dan. "In there, they can fight with swords, and there's no risk of pain or death. It's just escapism."

Gillian pursed her lips, her mentor's absence suddenly weighing even more heavily on her.

 _And Sensei just has to escape,_ she thought.

Cache let out a holler, "Oh God! We've already got a romance!" He quickly asked Eye-Oh to direct the view screen to another set of coordinates elsewhere in the world. The virtual camera focused on a couple standing on a rooftop, looking out over the City of Beginnings. The grey-clad man had a dashing look about him, while the girl in pink showed off a voluptuously curved body and stunning eyes.

Gillian pointed fixedly at the screen. " _That's_ true escapism. In real life, that girl looks nothing like that, and that guy probably has more acne than So-Co."

While DASM snickered at So-Co's face, Eye-Oh quickly downloaded a data dump from the NerveGear controllers associated with the players. He scanned the data, and burst into a fit of laughter. Amid his raucous giggles, he managed to say, "Judging by the amount of oestrogen in her brain, that chick's a dude. Probably not even fifteen! And that guy? If these pituitary readings are right, he's in his late twenties, and morbidly obese!"

The whole room rumbled with more laughter than at a Robin William's stand-up concert. Gillian struggled with her own chuckles as she quieted everyone else down.

"Let's not forget, everyone, that these people all have a contract with us, which includes privacy," she said. She glanced at Eye-Oh. "Probably don't download physiological data, okay?"

"Yes, Admin," said Eye-Oh sheepishly.

"On the other hand, we probably should keep track of that boy's oestrogen levels," mumbled Gillian facetiously.

The room chortled a little while longer, before a soft ding drew their attention to the player counter on the screen. It had dropped by one.

"Looks like we've had a log-out," said Gillian as she sat back down.

"Probably some kid being yanked down for dinner," said Dan with a yawn.

Gillian and Dan proceeded to chat about some subject, while So-Co and DASM bickered about some code issue, and Northbridge explained the 'no-life' jibe to Southbridge and Cryonics. PSU yawned and rubbed his eyes that had grown tired of the blaring lights from his terminal. Sec-Com's eyes seemed to be made of steel.

Eye-Oh's brow furrowed, and he mumbled, "Uh, Admin? We've got something here."

Gillian sobered from the joke Dan told her and tapped her earpiece. "Go ahead, Eye-Oh."

"The user who just logged off… their account has been deleted," said Eye-Oh with a puzzled tone.

Gillian raised an eyebrow. "Wow, the game must not've done anything for them." She mumbled to Dan, "Development might be a little pissed."

"Admin! You misunderstood me," snapped Eye-Oh. "The user didn't log off. The account was deleted. There was no log-off signal."

Gillian frowned. "Sec-Com, can you check the logs and confirm?" Sec-Com confirmed moments later. Gillian shook her head in bewilderment. "DASM, can you check the backtrace around the time the user… _disappeared?_ Cache, can you rollback and show what the player was doing at that time?"

Cache took control of the screen and brought the view to the right time index. The centre display showed a party of three, duelling with a pair of slime blobs in a grove just outside the city. The timer reached the index in question, when one of the blobs landed a good hard blow to one of the players. The player's health bar hit zero and he vanished. The other two finished off their enemy, and then headed back into the city.

"So-Co, isn't a dead player supposed to respawn at the nearest town?" asked Gillian, though her question was completely rhetorical.

"Affirmative, Admin," said So-Co. "Probably a bug we missed. I'll have a look and get a patch ready."

DASM suddenly blurted, "What the hell?"

"DASM, report?" commanded Gillian.

"Standby, Admin," said DASM. He then started conversing with So-Co. The conversation turned to a debate, which turned into a shouting match that Gillian went down and stopped quickly.

"Calm down, you two," she chided. "What's going on?"

"The debug symbols don't match," said DASM. He pointed at his terminal, displaying a long stream of numbers and codes. "The disassembly I've got here doesn't match with the source code this moron has up."

"So-Co, are you sure you pulled the right version?" asked Gillian.

"Positive," said So-Co. "Whatever _that_ disassembly is, it is _not_ the code that should be running."

Gillian's heartbeat rose as she turned to Sec-Com. "Any unauthorised access?"

"None that I can see, Admin," replied Sec-Com.

"DASM, what does this new code do?" asked Dan.

"It sends a weird signal through the uplink back to the NerveGear when the HP hits zero," said DASM. "Eye-Oh, get me a core dump from one of the players still online and I'll check what the signal's supposed to do."

DASM received the code from Eye-Oh's feed and scanned it determinedly. Meanwhile, Gillian issued orders down to customer service to apologise to the player for the deletion of their account. Sec-Com's eyes became even more vigilant on the data flowing through the server's data shunt. The mood grew tense as everyone awaited the analysis of the NerveGear code. Though their eyes were focused on DASM's motionless form, they didn't see the horror that grew in his eyes.

"Holy Christ," whispered DASM, his face pale with utter terror. Then he screamed, "Holy, sweet, fucking _Christ!_ Admin, shut down the server! _Now!_ "

Gillian didn't waste a moment. She turned to Northbridge and Southbridge and snapped, "Do it!"

The technicians got to work while Gillian approached DASM, who trembled as tears crawled down his face. It took a few repeats of the question before he said, "It's a kill routine."

"What do you mean? Does it shutdown the NerveGear?" asked Gillian.

"No, it overloads the power shunted to the posterior neural transceivers of the headset," exclaimed DASM. "It fries the brainstem! It literally _kills_ the wearer!"

Before Gillian could react, Northbridge reported in a very worried voice, "Admin, shutdown failed. The hardware is not responding to the shutdown signal."

The control room fell into a panic. DASM rocked back and forth in his chair as So-Co failed to console him. Both Northbridge and Southbridge grew louder and more scared as they repeatedly tried the shutdown and suspend signals to no avail. Gillian grasped at straws as she searched for more ways to shutdown the engine. Meanwhile, Dan announced angry calls from parents and newscasters learning of the death of one of the players.

Gillian finally blurted, "PSU, pull the plug, now!"

"NO!" screamed DASM. All eyes turned to the distraught teen, whose eyes were back on the NerveGear code. "There are other parts of the code that branch to this kill signal. One is if the console loses contact with the server, for whatever reason. We shutdown the server, and it'll kill everyone connected to Sword Art Online."

By now, sweat dribbled down Gillian's flushed face. She rubbed her forehead irately and intoned, "What else triggers the signal?"

"By the looks of it, a loss of feedback from the transducers," said DASM.

"So if their parents remove the headset, it'll kill them too," concluded Gillian in a deadpanned tone. She quickly ordered, "Patch the engine to jump over the kill signal."

DASM punched a few commands into his terminal. His terminal blared, "Access Denied." He tried another approach, and ran into the same problem. He panted, and gave a dismayed shrug.

Fuming, Gillian swivelled and yelled, "Dan, get the word out to every family with SAO. Under no circumstances are they to remove the headset, switch off the console, or disconnect the Internet connection. Is that clear?"

"Copy, Admin," said Dan, bolting out of the room.

"Cache, broadcast a message to every player in the game," Gillian bellowed. "Tell them to log out immediately."

"Got it, Admin," said Cache, whose fingers started pounding the keyboard.

Gillian leaned down to Southbridge and Northbridge. "Do what it takes, get this thing shutdown."

Both technicians sighed away their mounting tears of panic and horror, and set to work. Gillian turned back to DASM and So-Co, and said, "I need to know every other way this signal can be sent. So-Co, talk to the developers, and find out if any of them is a sick bastard."

The software engineers got to work. Gillian then sprinted up the aisle to Sec-Com. "I need to know where this code came from. Find it, now!" Sec-Com betrayed an ounce of emotion as she called up the logs from the last few weeks and started scanning.

Ten minutes later, the situation was no less enthusing. It started with an announcement from Cache.

"Admin, the broadcast isn't being sent," said the thin man whose glasses had fogged up with his frustration and nerves. "I've tried three times, and the request is being rejected."

"DASM, So-Co, why is this happening?" asked Gillian in an involuntary growl.

"I don't know, Admin," said DASM as he scrambled through the billions of lines of code in front of him. He found the spot he was looking for and skimmed the lines. "Admin, it seems the external messaging inlet was disabled."

"How?" exclaimed Gillian.

"No idea, Admin," said So-Co.

Gillian yelled, "Sec-Com, not to sound like a broken record –"

"We have _not_ been hacked, Admin," replied Sec-Com.

"Then where the hell did this code come from?" yelled Gillian.

Before anyone could answer her outburst, Northbridge interjected, "Admin, all attempts to shutdown the engine have failed."

"Forced logout of players also failed," said Southbridge.

Their tones were grave, as was the face of each technician as they turned to the screen. The players continued to explore, chat, and laugh together. Gillian's heart sank at the almost perverse sight, and she wet her lips with what little water she had left.

"Okay, guys," she began slowly. "Just humour me for a sec… What parts of Cardinal _can_ we control?"

Every pair of eyes drooped in despair, for no one had an answer.

Eye-Oh's console bleeped and he said, "Admin, we're getting an upload."

"Source?" mumbled Gillian absentmindedly.

"Don't know," replied Eye-Oh.

"Gillian, this is most definitely a hack now," said Sec-Com. "The upload is feeding into a restricted sector in the main storage array."

"It's at three terabytes already," said Eye-Oh.

"Can you track its source, Sec-Com?" asked Gillian.

"No, ma'am," said Sec-Com. "It's being bounce around a dozen different network nodes."

"How did it get past the firewall?" exclaimed Gillian.

"I don't know, Admin," replied Sec-Com.

"Jesus, I'm getting tired of hearing that," snapped Gillian.

Everyone backed away from their consoles and hung their hands powerlessly. There was only one who remained at his post. Gillian glanced over his way and said, "Cryonics, everything alright on your end." The man didn't respond. "Mister Grant?"

The cryonics technician shot to his feet, his eyes wide with horrified realisation. Then he scrambled over his neighbouring workers and paced up the aisle. Gillian tried to stop him but he pushed her aside.

"I need to call home," he said with a deadpanned tone. "My sister's playing the game." He marched out of the control room, leaving everyone dumbstruck. Moments later, sobbing took over the room, and it reigned until Eye-Oh chirped, "Upload complete, Admin."

Gillian climbed to her feet and trudged down to Eye-Oh's station. She studied the file's contents. "Looks like a program," she mumbled.

"Confirmed, Admin, the uploaded program is now running," said Northbridge.

"Another player has entered the game," said Cache with a croak. "The username is _Heathcliff_."

Gillian threw her face into her palm. "Please tell me this is at least an adult and not someone's five-year-old."

"It's the program," said Eye-Oh. "Backtracing the connection to the player avatar leads right back to the program that just uploaded. It looks like a neural emulation program."

"And we still don't know where it came from?" groaned Gillian. "Fan-tucking-fastic." She swivelled and marched to the top of the aisle. She faced her crew. "Everyone, listen up. I want you to alert your teams. Get everybody in here so we can fix this problem."

Before any of the distraught workers could move to follow orders, the main screen lit up with thousands of tiny blue flashes. All attention went to the screen, which took on a mind of its own and panned across the virtual landscape to the centre of the City of Beginnings. The blue flashes dissipated, leaving the entire centre plaza carpeted with people: every single player in Sword Art Online.

Then the skies turned red, and the clouds melted into a long, flowing cloak. Under the hood, the ghostly figure had no face. His voice boomed with a familiar tone that almost knocked Gillian unconscious.

"Welcome to Sword Art Online," bellowed the dark lord. "I am Akihiko Kayaba, creator of the NerveGear and the World of Ironclad in which you now stand. I hope you enjoy it.

"Many of you may have noticed that felled party members have not yet respawned. They will not. If your HP reading reaches zero, you will not respawn. Instead, the NerveGear will release a powerful pulse into you brain, effectively killing you.

"You should hope that nobody attempts to remove your NerveGear headset in the real world. The console is programmed to detect such an intrusion and deliver the same pulse.

"You should also have noticed that there is no log-out button in your in-game menu. This is not a bug, but a feature. You cannot leave this game of your own free will.

"As you process this information, please observe the item I have gifted to each of you."

Within minutes, the whole square flashed white. The light cleared, and every player had changed. Girls were revealed to be men; adults were outed as children; nationalities and ethnicities were altered.

"That item, upon activation, has altered your avatars to resemble your real life forms. This way, there is no way for falsehood to corrupt your appearance or facilitate your escapism.

"Sword Art Online is your reality now.

"If you would like to leave the game, you must clear all one hundred levels of Ironclad Tower. When that has been achieved, the game will be cleared, and you will be released.

"Well then, I believe that covers everything for the launch of Sword Art Online. I hope you enjoy this world. Have fun!"

With that, the ghost vanished and the sky became blue once more. The anguished cries of ten thousand players blared through the control room speakers. The technicians' hands stifled their horrified whimpers as tears flooded over their keyboards.

Gillian stood at the top of the aisle, petrified. Her blood ran cold, and her face was deathly pale. A dizzy-spell told her to breathe, and she collapsed onto her chair. She gripped her head tightly, as if to will the nightmare to end. But it didn't.

 _Sword Art Online is your reality now,_ the words of her beloved mentor echoed in her mind. Gillian growled, her mind swimming with resentment.

 _So, that's your magnum opus, Sensei? A death game for ten thousand children?_

Her body trembled and she hiccoughed to control her mounting tears.

"And _I_ have to maintain it?" she cried. "Is that all I am? A warden for your prison?"

* * *

 **When I first watched Sword Art Online, my first question (being a computer engineer) was, "What about all the admins and developers who unwittingly helped Kayaba put his plan into motion?" Because no matter how smart you are, you would need hundreds of developers and artists designing the world of Ironclad ( _not_ Aincrad!). If I were in Gillian's position, and I'd be devastated.**

 **I hope I carried that across with this chapter. If you'd like to see what happens next, by all means let me know. Follow me here or on Wattpad at CraigCooper9.**


	3. The Long Haul

A pillar of black smoke and soot reached feebly for the sky. At its base crackled a pile of charred brick, mortar, and wooden framing, interspersed with the cinders of fried computer equipment. There was the odd piece of furniture mixed in with the smouldering rubble. Even a bed and stove had somehow survived the fire. That, and the contents of the body bag the fire fighters carried out of the wreck.

Gillian watched the sight, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and her knuckles white with anger. A desperate part of her mind tried to find some way to convince the rest that this calamity wasn't really happening; that her mentor didn't really do this.

Yet, the reality of it all set in when, back at the morgue, the mortician confirmed the corpse's identity with dental records, and the fire brigade's report confirmed arson.

 _This isn't a mistake now,_ she realised. _This was all Kayaba._

The whole world was now swept up in Sword Art Online for the most wrong reason conceivable. Three entire blocks surrounding the Argus Building were flooded with furious people, placards in their hand demanding the arrest of all of Argus, Inc. Others had homemade effigies of Akihiko Kayaba, which they'd crucified and set alight. Gillian had to ask for a police escort through the crowd.

Gillian finally reached the building entrance just as riot police started to infiltrate the crowd in an attempt to break up the commotion. Something told her it was not going to go the way of authority.

 _I have to end this as quickly as possible,_ she thought.

She sprinted through the corridors of the building toward the observation deck above the main control room. The room was packed with the tech crews from every division, and every face was white with horror. Each pair of eyes did their best to avert their eyes from the main screen showing frame after frame of the mortified player's faces.

Gillian glanced to the player counter, which read nine thousand eight hundred and twenty two.

"We've lost a hundred and seventy eight players in just a day?" Gillian cried.

"About ten players to the game, and the rest to… suicide," said Cache, wiping his eyes.

Gillian fumed, but quickly brought her mind to the matter at hand. "Kayaba is dead. He set his house on fire just as the system was launched."

"Hang on, how would he have made that announcement to all the players?" asked So-Co.

"It wasn't him, it was _Heathcliff_ ," said Eye-Oh. "The logs from the time of the announcement showed that it was that program's new avatar that spoke to the players." She turned to Gillian. "Are they sure that Kayaba was in the fire?"

"Dental records," said Gillian. "Alright, let's assume that Kayaba planned this, just as this Heathcliff said. We can also assume that Kayaba uploaded the Heathcliff program."

Sec-Com spoke up, her arms tightening around her chest as she said, "He had access to every single system in the building, and could have easily made the changes to the codebase after the beta."

"And it was only a few lines of code, really," said DASM. "We built the game around his vision, and all he had to do was tweak a few lines of assembly."

Gillian turned to Dan, who clearly hadn't slept the previous night, and said, "Dan, get PR on this. We need to issue a statement that it was Kayaba, and we're trying everything we can to get these kids out of the game alive."

"Got it, Gillian," replied Dan, jotting down the command and exiting the room.

Gillian then turned to the rest of her team. "We've had a day to figure out what Kayaba did. Now, is there any way we can _undo_ it?"

"We've tried every shutdown strategy we can think of," said Northbridge, nudging a sniffling Southbridge beside him.

"Even the in-process message queues have been locked out," said Cache. "I can't even modify the game content to write a message in map tiles."

"I can't patch the engine," said DASM. "Every single patch protocol has been disabled. I can just get core dumps of the instruction memory, and that's it."

"Okay, DASM, do a complete core dump of the engine," said Gillian. "It'll make the server lag a little, which is why I want you to do it at night when most players in the game are asleep. Then I want you to send it to every single IT faculty, every game developer, every compiler theorist… hell, put it on 4Chan and let Anonymous have a crack at shutting this thing off."

"Uh, Admin, are you sure about that?" mumbled Sec-Com. Both DASM and So-Co had very nervous looks on their faces. "That would be a major security leak. And there may be psychopaths out there who could figure out how to activate that kill signal remotely."

Gillian pursed her lips as her impatient side waged a bloody war against the rational side. The rational eventually won and she said, "I agree. Call the security agencies you know of. Get them to have a look at it."

"That's a bit better, Admin," said DASM.

At that moment, Cryonics Technician Grant entered the room, his face buried in his palms. Everyone feared the worst for his sister. He showed his face, exhibiting a mix of dismay and relief, and said, "My sister is fine for now. My parents are organising for her to be moved to a hospital."

"What about the disconnect protocol?" asked DASM. "Once they disconnect the Internet –"

"They've got someone to put her on a battery-powered access point," said Grant. "She'll lag, but for now all she's doing is hiding in an inn somewhere in the City of Beginnings. She'll be fine for now."

At that, PSU leaned down to Gillian and said, "Admin, that might not be a bad idea. We should probably tell all the other families to do that."

"What? Settle them in for the long haul?" exclaimed Gillian. She turned her gaze to the rest of the group, her eyes wide with determination. "That is not necessary. I plan for these kids to be awake before the week's out. Understood?" The conference room simmered with sighs and grumbles. Gillian sighed, "Now, let's go onto alternative plans." She pointed at he screen irately. "Right now, a lot of these kids are terrified. They came to this game for fun, not to have their real lives snatched away by a sociopath. We need a way to communicate with them."

Cache and Southbridge both said in unison, "All inlets are blocked."

"Then we need to make a new one," retorted Gillian.

"Why don't we find a volunteer and send them in?" said So-Co.

Grant's hand shot up, "I'll go!"

"Negative," said Gillian. "I'm not sending anyone into that game." Grant stepped forward to argue, but Gillian quickly shouted, "If it comes to that, _I'll_ go in. But nobody else is risking their lives. Understood?"

The room fell silent. People shuffled uncomfortably and a few coughed to blow away their nerves. Only one person could find more to say.

"Maybe not even you have to go," said Eye-Oh, his finger raised fixedly. His eyes went unfocused as he pondered his tiny epiphany into an idea. "Yeah, this might work. We can do what Kayaba did and make our own Heathcliff."

"What do you mean?" asked Gillian.

"A while back, a friend of mine at M.I.T. was researching AI," said Eye-Oh. "I could get her in here, and we can build a neural emulation program just like Kayaba's."

Sec-Com pointed a finger at Eye-Oh, her eyes bright with excitement. "We can create another player just like Heathcliff. We can even get it into the engine the same way Kayaba got his in."

"We could program it with the knowledge of every single floor in Ironclad Tower," said Cache, his grin broadening.

"Why stop there?" asked Sec-Com. "We could program it with high-level administrator privileges, and allow it to unlock every single floor all at once. And since it'd be a player –"

"It can just waltz right into Level One-Hundred, kill the boss, and end the game!" exclaimed Eye-Oh.

All eyes turned to Gillian, who had started grinning without realising it.

"Can you do it?" she asked.

"Heh, we'll be making a Neo!" exclaimed Northbridge. Everyone looked at him quizzically. "You know, Neo from _The Matrix_ –"

"Okay! Don't want to hear it," snapped Gillian with a chuckle. She looked to everyone else. "I love this plan. Thank you all. I want everyone to get to work. Eye-Oh, get your friend in here ASAP. DASM, So-Co, Sec-Com, Cache, give them every bit of information they need. At the same time, I'd like you to program some counselling protocols into this program, in case unlocking all the levels isn't such a piece of cake. Everyone clear?" The room reverberated with an excited grunt. "Get to work!" bellowed Gillian.

The room started to empty, but Grant remained immobile. His face was still pale with worry, and Gillian put a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll get her out," said the Admin. "I promise you that."

Grant only nodded nervously.

* * *

Gillian sat in her office, scribbling at yet another progress report on the implementation of their plan. The system was almost ready: an impressive feat for just three days of work. The only moment of contention, really, was in deciding the name of the new player. She was thankful there was at least some levity among her staff, with a small debate between Northbridge and everyone else over whether to call the program 'Neo.'The pushback had eventually overruled the pop-culture-happy technician. Since Eye-Oh and his M.I.T. friend just took to calling it 'The Ewe-Eye' (because, obviously, it was really just a user interface), Dan had the nice suggestion of giving it the Japanese name 'Yui.'

"It just sounds sweet," he had said. "I always thought, if I had a daughter, I'd call her that."

And so, the saviour of Sword Art Online was to be named Yui.

Gillian looked at the three letters on the page and chuckled at how the name had brought her team together. She decided, when the whole fiasco was over, she'd have to treat them all to something – her bank balance be damned.

"Hardly a suitable time to be smiling, Doctor Hearn," said a stern male voice. Gillian looked up to see a man in a suit and neatly combed hair. He entered her office and held out a badge. "Detective Weber, FBI Cybercrime Unit."

Gillian's mood turned sour. "I've already issued our report to the FBI and Interpol. We're working the problem."

"Of that, I have no doubt, Doctor Hearn," said Weber. "I'm here in an observational capacity."

"There's a deck overlooking the main control room," said Gillian, her eyes fixed on the report. "Go there and observe."

Weber leaned forward on her desk and intoned, "I couldn't help but notice you haven't issued a directive to move these players to hospitals."

"No need," replied Gillian. "We should have them out by the end of the week."

"Ah, yes, your God program," said Weber. "Do we have an ETA on that?"

"Tomorrow," replied Gillian in a tone that yelled, "Get the hell out of my office!"

"And in the meantime, those players are soiling themselves and their muscles atrophying," replied Weber. "Wouldn't it be better to move them to a more… dignified place?"

"I am _not_ telling parents to put their kids in coma wards, Weber," snapped Gillian. "Nor will I insinuate that this game would go on for long enough to warrant such a measure. You have a problem with that, arrest me."

Weber leaned back, his hands held up defensively. "Hey, I'm merely an observer. And it was just a suggestion. If you feel this plan will work, great."

"I do," replied Gillian, her eyes fixed on his. "My assistant, Dan, will take you to the observation deck."

Weber nodded with a polite smile, before standing and leaving the room. Gillian shook her head to clear away her excess irritation, and looked back to the report.

* * *

The control room simmered with toned-down excitement. Everyone worked with intense precision on preparing the Yui program for its first activation. Cache and So-Co readied all the databases for the system, while Eye-Oh and his friend chipped away at last minute software details.

Gillian stood behind her station, just knowing Agent Weber was watching her. A small part of her mind told her that he was just waiting to pounce like a tiger. She knew that if the Yui program didn't work, there was a number in Weber's phone he was bound to use.

Finally, all stations announced they were ready to start the program. Gillian silently gave the go-ahead, and began wringing her hands nervously.

"Admin, the program is running," said Eye-Oh. "The isolated space is online, and the avatar seems to be stable."

Gillian trotted down to Eye-Oh's station, stopping at Sec-Com on the way. "Is that hack ready?" she asked.

"At your command, Admin," said Sec-Com.

Gillian leaned over Eye-Oh's chair and looked at the computer-generated face before her. The fit, curvaceous body of an elf-like creature stared back at her. Eye-Oh said, "Yui, I'd like you to meet Chief Server Admin, Gillian Hearn."

Gillian pursed her lips gauchely at the notion of talking with a computer program. Nevertheless, she opened her mouth and said, "It's good to meet you, Yui."

The digital effigy pitched toward her and bowed rigidly.

"Good to meet you too, Gillian Hearn," said Yui with a deep electronic voice.

"Are you familiar with your purpose, Yui?" asked Gillian.

"I am," said Yui. "I am to enter Sword Art Online, and use administrator function zero-four-alpha-zeta to unlock the One-Hundredth Floor of Ironclad Tower. I will clear that level and release all the players from Sword Art Online. In the case I am not able to do so, I am to provide mental health care for the players trapped therein."

"Excellent, Yui," said Gillian. "We'll commence the upload shortly. Standby."

The avatar bowed rigidly once more, eliciting excited grins from Eye-Oh and his friend. Gillian shook her head with amusement as she paced back to her station and sat down.

"Sec-Com, commence transfer on my mark," said Gillian. All hands reported ready. "Mark!"

Sec-Com pounded her keyboard, entering commands with all the excitement and nervousness of a first-home buyer. Gillian watched the logs from her own terminal, and her heart raced with anticipation as a loading bar appeared and started to fill.

"Program is being uploaded," said Eye-Oh.

Gillian's hands clenched even tighter, and she pressed them to her lips to keep herself from hyperventilating. The loading bar filled to about a quarter. Her nerves – and everyone else's, for that matter – heightened as it passed seventy per cent.

Then it started to slow.

"Oh, no," intoned Sec-Com.

Northbridge suddenly blurted, "Admin, I'm reading activity on the secure memory shunt."

"It's Heathcliff," said Southbridge, her terminal reading a dozen warning alarms.

"The upload has stopped," cried Eye-Oh.

"Reroute, find another path and get the program the rest of the way," snapped Gillian.

Sec-Com typed a few more commands, growing more and more agitated with each red bleep on her screen. She suddenly smashed her fists on her desk, "Damn it!" She swivelled to face Gillian, panting and flushed. "I've lost the connection. I can't get it back."

"Eye-Oh, did we get enough of the program in there?" asked Gillian nervously.

"Negative, Admin," droned Eye-Oh. "Program Yui has been corrupted beyond repair."

Gillian cringed with disbelief. She buried her face in her hands and moaned, "What happened?"

"I don't know, Admin," mumbled Sec-Com, her head down on her desk. Eye-Oh dried his exhausted eyes.

Gillian growled, but kept it quiet so as to not upset her staff any further. She stood and began to pace. Her heart ached with powerlessness as she eyed the players on the screen, and the player counter that just dropped by one more. Her brain felt heavy, as if someone had poured cement into her skull.

She turned to the observation deck. Agent Weber hadn't moved a muscle. But Gillian could tell that he was about to make a call that would cost her control of the server.

 _Not that I ever had control to begin with really,_ she thought. _But if there's anyone who should be here running the show, it's me, not some FBI or NSA numbskull. That means… I'll have to do things his way._

She turned to her team and breathed deeply. They looked to her helplessly. Knowing she needed to make a building wide announcement, she sat down at her terminal and brought up the broadcast system for the whole building. Speakers in every room whined with the sound of her voice.

"This is Chief Server Admin, Gillian Hearn," she announced. "All attempts to access the Cardinal Engine have failed. It looks like the only people who can solve this problem are the players themselves. It is now our job to keep these systems running for as long as the players are connected to the Cardinal Engine.

"I will alert all the families and next of kin: effective immediately, all players of Sword Art Online are to be moved to the nearest hospital. They are to be kept alive by all means for as long as it takes to finish the game.

"I'm sorry, everyone, that it has come to this. But we have no other options at this point. Pack 'em, stack 'em, and rack 'em. We're in this for the long haul."

* * *

 **Hope you liked that. I have modified Yui's origin story a little, but then again everything in what I do is different from the original source material. That's the point of a re-imagining.**

 **If you want more, by all means rate and review and let me know what you think. And follow me either here or on wattpad at CraigCooper9.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


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